


The Taming of the Mongoose

by victorine



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Beverly Katz is the Best, Bickering as flirtation, F/F, Hannibal is Petruchio, Hannibal is still a controlling dick, M/M, Ridiculous disguises because Shakespeare, Shakespeare AU: Taming of the Shrew, Team Sassy Science, Wedding, Will is Katherine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:06:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6644311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorine/pseuds/victorine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Hannibal-themed rewrite of the wedding scene (Act III, scene ii) from William Shakespeare's <em>The Taming of the Shrew</em>, in which Hannibal is late to marry Will and Will wants everyone to know he's in no rush to get married anyway. Plus, Team Sassy Science in disguise, to help Bev win the heart of Alana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Taming of the Mongoose

**Author's Note:**

> So, this weekend marks both the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare's death and his 452nd birthday (legend has it he was born and died on the same date). And, because Shakey's my boy, I decided to desecrate his memory with this nonsense.
> 
> Also, I've never been able to get the image of Hannibal as Petruchio out of my head (c'mon, tell me Mads wouldn't rock it!).
> 
> Full dramatis personae in the end notes. If you're not familiar with the play (and the many, many issues associated with it), [SparkNotes](http://www.sparknotes.com/shakespeare/shrew/summary.html) has an excellent summary, as well as other resources, including a plain English version.

“And just where in the hell is Hannibal Lecter?”

Beverly Katz, currently disguised as well-to-do music teacher Lucie Chats, cringed as Jack Crawford bellowed at her across the hotel’s front courtyard. She wasn't sure why Crawford thought she, or at least “Lucie” of all people, might know of the eccentric psychiatrist’s whereabouts, nor was she pleased to hear of a hitch in the marital proceedings. After all, if Jack didn't get his eldest child married off today, Beverly would be forced to wait who knows how much longer before claiming the hand of his youngest, Alana. Not to mention that, if Jack chose to turn his titanic temper on Lucie, that hope would likely be academic anyway. His obsessive protectiveness of his children had already necessitated her ludicrous (though unexpectedly effective) disguise in the first place. Gaining audiences with Alana had been much easier in the guise of a shy, sexless music teacher than in her own, generally leather-clad form.

Beverly had rarely been so glad of her childhood flute lessons.

Speaking of Jack’s son and heir, Beverly caught sight of Will, close on Jack’s heels, doing a remarkably good impression of his father’s ire for someone who didn't actually share any DNA with him. Double the Crawford temper tantrum was not a prospect for which she held much excitement, but she stood her ground, determined to prove herself their equal.

“Well?” Jack roared. “Where is the scoundrel? Is he trying to humiliate my family?”

Beverly opened her mouth to respond, without actually knowing what to say, but was saved by Will’s interruption.

“Oh please,” he scoffed, “I've been telling you all along that the man’s a psychopath but you wouldn't listen. So eager for a chance to get shot of the unstable problem child, you'd have married me off to anyone who offered. No matter if I liked him or not!”

Beverly had to cover a cough. She'd seen the looks Lecter had shot Will. And the ones Will had shot back. They might have bickered hard enough for a screwball romcom but Beverly knew it was hiding a mutual desire to shed their clothes at higher speed than the banter.

Will curled his lip at her but continued, “He probably gets off on this, making us dance around like a bunch of sappy fools and then laughing his head off as he escapes before any permanent damage is done. He's probably done it a thousand times.” Will put his head in his hands and groaned. “Goddammit, you know I hate being the centre of attention, Jack, now everyone's gonna point, and laugh, and they'll be all ‘There's Will Crawford, Hannibal Lecter's husband, if only he would bother to come marry him!’”

From his position very subtly hidden behind Beverly for protection, Jimmy (disguised as Lucie’s PA) piped up, “Now, Mr Crawford, don't be too hasty. You know Hannibal's not like that. The man would never be rude _intentionally_. I'm sure he has a perfectly good reason for being late.”

Price ducked back behind Beverly as Will glowered at him, spitting, “I know him about as well as you know me. I only wish I didn't know him at all!” He then turned smartly on his heel and stalked back to the hotel, hands set in fists at his sides.

Jack watched him go, shaking his head. For once, he did not seem inclined to shout and instead said, softly, “I can't blame him, really. Anyone would feel betrayed, let alone someone who feels so deeply.”

Beverly was considering whether it was suicide to offer Jack a shoulder to cry on, when Zeller (currently playing the role of Beverly’s driver) came rushing up to them from the hotel’s driveway. He was yelling something but it took a moment for the words to reach them.

“…news! I've got news, I know what's happening!”

“That's a first,” muttered Price, receiving an elbow in his ribs from Beverly for his trouble.

Zeller skidded to a stop in front of them. “I've got good news and weird news.”

“Well? Spit it out man!” Jack was back to full volume. “Is Lecter come?”

Zeller shrugged and looked around himself. “No, obviously.”

Jack gritted out, “Well, what then?”

“He is _coming_ ,” Zeller grinned.

As she heard Price groan, Beverly wondered if Zeller knew he was already dead.

Jack took a deep breath, as if to steady himself, and asked, “And when will he be gracing us with his presence?”

Zeller gave him a blank look. “Well… whenever he's standing here, I guess.”

It took a full two minutes for Beverly and Price to get Jack to release Zeller and Beverly really only helped because she knew Zeller hadn't finished his message. Eventually Jack relented, with a warning that though he didn't want to shed blood on his son’s wedding day, Zeller was swiftly finding the edge of his limits on that rule.

“Ok, idiot, what's the weird news?” asked Price.

Zeller was still pouting, but seemed to quickly decide that keeping quiet would not likely end well for him. “Ok, it’s just… you should see the get-up Lecter’s got on. He’s wearing, I swear to God, this purple, like eggplant purple, three-piece suit – it might even be velvet, I couldn’t see well enough – with huge gold paisley print all over it. And a turquoise shirt and tie. And matching pocket square. And he’s got gold leaf in his hair, I think, he nearly blinded me with it. And the car, oh my god, you won’t believe the car. It’s a soft-top Bentley and it’s gold, too. Not, like, metallic paint, I mean every single fucking thing in it is gold, the upholstery, even the wheels, even the license plate. It’s insane. He’s insane. When I left, he was leaning out of the thing, telling passers-by that he was on his way to marry the most beautiful man in the country!”

A moment of silence passed as the group considered this vision.

“Well,” Beverly offered, at last, “at least we know he’s excited for the wedding.”

“I take it someone is driving him, then?” Jack asked, ignoring her.

“Yeah, that chick he’s always hanging around with… Chia… Chaya…” Zeller struggled.

“Chiyoh,” Beverly supplied.

“Yeah,” Zeller nodded, “her. And she’s dressed in gold too, like the car – almost thought it was self-driving – in a _major_ dress.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Interesting,” Beverly said, before she could stop herself. She was unofficially engaged to Alana, after all, not blind.

Price nudged her and interjected, “He’s just excited for his wedding. And he’s always a snappy dresser, he’s just rising to the occasion in style.”

“Hmm.” Jack sounded unconvinced but admitted, “I’m just glad the damn fool’s decided to show up.”

At that, they heard the sound of gravel flying as the groom’s procession finally arrived. As Zeller had said, Hannibal, Chiyoh and their car were all resplendent in gold, with accents of purple. Beverly swore she could actually feel a rush of air from the speed at which Jack’s eyebrows rose when Hannibal vaulted from the car and swaggered towards them.

“Ah, Jack, Ms Chats, gentlemen,” he greeted them brightly, “I expected you would be within already. I do hope you were not waiting for me.”  
“Indeed, we had begun to worry a little,” Jack responded, seemingly allowing his relief to override his anger. Despite the façade, Lecter frowned, unconvinced.

“Ah, I see perhaps I am not welcome?” he asked, something dark flashing in his eyes.

“Certainly well- _dressed_ ,” Price chipped in.

The frown vanished from Lecter’s face and he beamed, the first time any of them had seen such an expression cross the doctor’s face. He turned, allowing them to see his outfit from all angles. “Do I meet with your approval, my dear friends?”

“It is rather… daring, doctor,” Beverly started.

“It’s nothing but peacocking and I’m not sure Will will approve. I know I don’t,” Jack snapped.

Lecter looked disappointed in the man, though Beverly suspected a trace of amusement, too. “Why, father Jack, should a man not be resplendent on his wedding day? Should I not climb to the rooftop and declare for all to hear, ‘Today is the day I marry Will Crawford, the most fascinating man the gods ever created!’” These last words were, indeed, delivered at high volume.

“I had believed you to be a sober, reasonable sort of man, Doctor Lecter,” snarled Jack. “Your lateness was worrying, but this behaviour is unacceptable. Not to mention your outfit, which I can only imagine is meant as a mockery.”

Attempting to soothe the brewing tension between the two men, Price stepped between them (later Beverly would reflect this might have been the bravest act she’d ever seen), saying, “Don’t be so harsh, Mr Crawford, I think Doctor Lecter looks rather fine. He merely dresses with more… flair than the average man. Isn’t it rather charming that he would dress himself so… remarkably for his big day?”

Beverly really wasn’t sure this was helping.

Price turned to Hannibal, managing not to cringe away, and asked, ‘Perhaps you could tell us what kept you, I’m sure you had a good reason.”

Keeping his eyes fixed on Jack, Hannibal waved a hand dismissively and said, “Oh, it is a long and terrible tale, no need to bother with it now. Suffice to say I am here, with every intention of speaking my vows. And speaking of which, where is my lovely Will? I have kept my beloved waiting far too long, it’s long past time we were married.”

Hannibal made to march to the hotel but Jack caught him by the arm, growling, “Are you sure I cannot persuade you to change into something more sober? For Will’s sake, if not mine.”

“Ah, Jack.” To Beverly’s horror, Hannibal actually reached up and patted the older man’s cheek, his tone almost fond, “You are relentless. But no, it is to me Will is to be married and not my clothes. No doubt he’ll wear me out quicker than I’ll wear out these clothes, anyway, which is good for him and better for me, eh? But!” At this he released a stunned Jack and continued onwards, declaring, “How foolish of me to stand here chatting, when my dearest Will awaits, to be well-wed and well-kissed!”

The group stood and stared for a second time, as the groom disappeared into the hotel, followed by an almost-imperceptibly smirking Chiyoh.

It was Price, again, who spoke first, apparently having designated himself peacekeeper for the day. “Perhaps it’s a Lithuanian custom.” The group’s stares switched to him, Jack’s possibly containing bullets. Price swallowed. “We’ll talk to him. _Lucie_?” Beverly received an elbow to the ribs.

“Right, yes. Talk to him. Absolutely.”

“Save it,” Jack snapped. “Let’s just get in there and hope we can get to ‘I do.’” He stormed off in the same direction as Lecter.

After a moment, Price turned to Beverly and asked, “Are you sure this girl’s worth all this trouble?” Beverly just glared at him (she stole the look from Jack) and he raised his hands in apology. “Ok, ok, just checking.”

Behind him, Zeller muttered, “Woman must have beer-flavoured nipples,” earning him a sharp smack round the head from Beverly.

Price nodded in approval at the punishment and added, “You’re going to have to work harder for Jack’s approval, you know.”

“Yeah,” Beverly sighed, “and I’m not the only one who’s interested. You’ve seen how the Verger woman’s been checking her out, right? If I didn’t think she’d rat us out, I’d take Alana to Vegas and marry her before anyone could stop us. Then no one would be able to take her from me.”

“Say the word and I’ll book the tickets,” Price told her. He looked up at the sound of footsteps coming from the hotel. “Oh, speak of the she-devil.”

Margot Verger was bearing down on them, looking for all the world as if she might break into a sprint, stilettos or no. Price called to her, “Ms Verger, are they done already? Have you come from the wedding?”

She came to a halt in front of them and nodded vehemently. “As eagerly as I ever did from my brother’s pigsties.”

“And the grooms?” Beverly asked.

“On their way to the reception,” Margot angled her head in the direction of a huge white tent set up in the grounds. “I can’t believe you missed it. I came out here for a cigarette but come on, I’ll walk you over, I need to tell someone about this.”

They began walking in the direction of the tent, Beverly prompting Margot to talk.

“Well, never let it be said they didn’t find the right match for Will Crawford. I thought he was a lunatic but his husband… I almost feel sorry for Will.”

Price exclaimed, disbelieving, “He can’t be more of a handful than Will?”

“He’s the devil in a three-piece!”

“Come on,” Zeller interrupted, exasperated. Beverly was going to have to think of a good reason why her driver was accompanying her to the reception. It had already been thought strange she’d brought her PA as her plus one. “Few hundred years ago, Will would have been burned at the stake, all that freaky mind reading he does. Pretty mean temper on him, too, when provoked.”

Margot rolled her eyes. “Sure, but compared to Lecter, he’s a precious baby lamb. Listen, when the officiant asked if Lecter would take Will as his husband, Lecter’s response was to declare, ‘I’ll marry my mongoose and not God himself could stop me!’ The officiant was so surprised he dropped his papers and, when he bent to retrieve them, Lecter cuffed him round the head so hard he fell to the floor. Then Lecter whispered something to him that made the poor man look so scared, I’m surprised he didn’t faint then and there.”

“And how did Will respond?” Beverly asked, afraid of the answer.

“He stood there and shook, and twitched and… well, sweated. He looked like he would’ve been happy to kill Lecter, all the guests, and himself in short order. Still said ‘I do’ when it came down to it, though.” At that, Beverly gave a sigh of relief. “Then, after it was done, Lecter declared ‘Who’s hungry?’ and laid a kiss on Will like he was the meal himself. Though I think Will might have had less of a problem with that, judging by his reaction.” She winked. “He might not like the mouth on Hannibal but he doesn't seem to mind Hannibal's mouth on him. Anyway, after all that, I needed a smoke. Still do. I’ll leave you here.” They’d arrived at the reception tent. “Leave me at least one dance with the lovely Alana, ok _Lucie_?” She laughed and sashayed away.

“Now _that_ woman is more trouble than she’s worth,” observed Price, as both of his companions nodded. Beverly and Price entered the tent, having convinced an unhappy Zeller he couldn’t come inside, to be greeted by the sight of Hannibal holding court at the head table, flanked by Jack, Will and Alana.

“My dearest family and friends,” he was saying, “I wish to convey my deepest thanks, and those of my lovely new husband,” he reached down to pet Will’s hair, gaining a slap on the hand for his trouble, “for your presence here on this most special of days. I know you had hoped to share in this wonderful feast with us and to celebrate our love but I fear our bags are packed and we must be leaving post-haste.”

Both Will and Jack’s heads snapped up at these words but Jack was first to exclaim, “Surely you cannot be abandoning your own reception?”

There wasn’t a trace of regret in Hannibal’s voice as he responded, “Ah, dear father, I am afraid so. If you knew the reason, you would be begging me to go. Most beloved friends, my thanks for your coming to witness me wed this beautiful, fascinating, marvellous man. Enjoy the food, and drink to our health. And now, we must away. Goodbye to you all!” He grabbed a stunned Will’s arm and attempted to lead him from the tent but Will stubbornly pulled against him.

From the back of the tent, Price called to Hannibal, “Doctor Lecter, won’t you at least stay until after dinner?”

Hannibal, who looked like he was considering lifting Will over his shoulder, called out cheerfully, “Alas, I cannot.”

Beverly tried her luck. “Please, Hannibal, for me.”

Again, a refusal. “Ah, sweet Lucie, it cannot be.”

Then Will’s voice rang out. “How about me? Can I entreat you?”

Hannibal ceased struggling with his husband at once. “I am content.”

“To stay?” Will asked warily.

Hannibal grinned at him. “I am content for you to entreat me. Yet I shall not stay, no matter the manner of your entreaty.”

Will practically growled at this but schooled himself into calmness. “If you love me, you will stay.”

Hannibal lifted a hand to cup Will’s face, seemingly tender, but then called out, “Chiyoh, the car!”

At this, Will pulled away, a fierce, bitter smile marring his face. “Fine then. Do your worst, I’m not going with you – today, or any day.” He gestured towards the route Chiyoh had taken out of the tent. “Go on, there’s the door, start walking, keep going ‘til your feet bleed. I’m not going anywhere until it suits me.” He dropped back into his chair and folded his arms. “Jesus, if this is what you’re like at our wedding, I shudder to think what you’ll be like as a husband.”

If anything, Hannibal looked more amused and enamoured by this display than chastened. Still, he knelt before Will and said, mournfully, “Dear Will, calm down. Please do not be angry.”

Will avoided his eyes and spat out, “I’ll be angry if I damn well want to be, Hannibal. What are you going to do about it?” A smug expression settled across his face and he turned to Jack, saying, “Don’t worry, Dad, he’ll stay as long as I want him to.”

From beside her, Beverly heard Margot mutter, with a mix of horror and glee, “Oh snap, here we go.”

Will, oblivious of this, addressed the assembled guests. “Go ahead, everyone, dig in. I know how to deal with my dear husband: he just needs someone to stand up to him.”

Hannibal snaked his arms around Will’s middle and pressed a kiss to his cheek, chuckling. “Indeed, my love, they shall enjoy the feast, just as you command. Come on, everyone, obey the groom. Eat, drink and be merry! Toast to our marriage and our unending happiness! Or go straight to hell for your wretchedness!” Will’s eyes narrowed at these last words, sensing the trap before it sprang. He reached for his glass but Hannibal shot out an arm to catch him. “Ah, ah, ah, my love. Not you!” He turned his attention back to the crowd. “My beautiful boy must come with me.”

This time he did heft Will over one shoulder, holding him relatively still, if not in any way quiet.

“Now, do not struggle, my dearest,” he told his wriggling, snarling burden, “I am your husband, so I am in charge. You belong to me, you are my possession and I will treat you as such. And not one of you is to lay a hand on him, or risk meeting my lawyer. Or worst, my fist.”

He stalked through the frozen crowd, seemingly unimpeded by Will’s weight, making straight for Chiyoh, who had returned from warming up the car. “Watch out, Chiyoh,” he exclaimed, “these people are nothing but a bunch of thieves who wish to take what is rightfully mine. If needs be, draw your weapon and defend your masters.”

From the sharp look on Chiyoh’s features, Beverly suspected this was more than just posturing.

Before exiting the tent completely, Hannibal smacked Will’s ass and told him, “Fear not, good Will, I will protect you, even against a million of them!”

Then they were gone, with Chiyoh close behind, leaving a stunned group of guests and a shattered Jack Crawford. Beverly thought he might spontaneously combust and looked around in earnest for a fire extinguisher, when she heard the strangest noise.

It was laughter.

Coming from the mouth of Jack Crawford.

Full-on, shoulder-shaking, tear-causing, belly-jiggling laughter, which rolled out from the top table and infected everyone in the tent.

At length, Jack pulled himself together and panted, “Oh, good God, good riddance to them. Did you ever see such a peaceable couple?!”

Margot snorted at that and added, “I think if they hadn’t left when they did, I might have died laughing.”

“You or Jack,” Price responded. “I thought I’d seen it all but this is the craziest marriage I ever witnessed.”

Beverly, who had been leaning on Price for support as she laughed, straightened up as she saw Alana making her way towards them. Beside her, she felt Margot do the same and remembered that the other woman was a formidable rival. Wanting Alana’s attention for herself, she stepped forward and asked, “What do you make of all this, Doctor Crawford?”

Alana treated her to a grin, saying, “Well, Will has never been exactly orthodox. Perhaps it was inevitable that his husband would be a little unorthodox too.”

Margot stepped forward to interject, “I think your brother can give as good as he gets. In fact, I think Hannibal’s about to learn what it is to be _strong-Willed_.” She winked, again, at her own pun, making it a little easier for Beverly to hate her.

**Author's Note:**

> Dramatis Personae:
> 
> Hannibal - Petruchio (a gentleman in want of a wife - huge dowry a must)  
> Will - Katherine/Kate (the "shrew" - a strong-willed, quick-witted, often violent woman who is looked down on by her society)  
> Jack - Baptista (father to Kate and Bianca, he declares that Bianca can only marry after her sister does)  
> Alana - Bianca (Kate's sister - outwardly the picture of docile sweetness, though hiding a wicked streak)  
> Beverly - Lucentio (a young gentleman who disguises himself as a teacher in order to woo Bianca)  
> Price - Tranio (Lucentio's servant)  
> Zeller - Biondello (Lucentio's other servant)  
> Margot - Gremio (a gentleman and rival for Bianca's hand, it is he who directs Petruchio towards Kate)  
> Chiyoh - Grumio (Petruchio's servant and the Fool of this play)
> 
> Incidentally, I'm aware that technically Price should be disguised as Beverly at this point, but there aren't enough drugs in the world to let me cope with that image, so I took a tiny bit of artistic license there.
> 
> Oh, and let me know if you got the 10 Things I Hate About You ref.
> 
> As ever, kudos is lovely, comments are life.


End file.
